During the first few weeks of term, Hermione kept a sharp eye on the young William White. Despite her coworker's decision at their meeting with Minerva, she chose to summarily ignore them. She would not let a young Muggleborn to his own devices in Slytherin House.
She felt herself fervently wishing he had been sorted in Gryffindor once again. If he had been sorted into her own House, she would have been able to help him a bit more directly. As of now, she had instructed a couple of Gryffindor prefects to keep an eye on him and offer their assistance whenever they deemed it necessary. Additionally, she sought William out every now and again after her Transfiguration lectures, to make sure he was adjusting to school well. The young boy seemed… scared of her. He stuttered and mumbled, incredibly shy, and seemed always too eager to scurry off.
Hermione huffed. The lectures were another matter altogether. William seemed to have made at least a casual acquaintance of the Ravenclaw girl he sat next to in Transfiguration – Alexandra Hall, as she recalled, another Muggleborn. While Alexandra seemed to be an excellent student, reading ahead on material and being quite adept on the subject matter, William was… the complete opposite. It broke the young professor's heart to see him struggle so deeply with her subject. He had great difficulty grasping even the simplest theoretical concepts. Practical application was a complete and utter nightmare – William had yet to produce a single successful result.
His failings in class did not go unnoticed by the Slytherins sharing her classroom. She could hear faint whispers, but frankly no more than that. She had never truly seen him fraternize with anyone other than Miss Hall; certainly no one from his own House. At mealtimes, he shared a cordial greeting upon seating himself and leaving the table, during meals he tucked into a book harder than his actual food.
Hermione sighed, thinking of how desperately alone he must feel. She had heard nothing from her prefects about any bullying or other incidents involving White or any other Muggleborns. There were the usual pranks or late-night forages, but nothing of note.
She supposed there would be more info on the young boy at the staff meeting coming up in two days. Hermione could have asked Narcissa, the woman was after all the Slytherin Head of House, but she did not want to cross the witch's path any more than necessary after their altercation at the previous meeting. Having to contend with the completely unfazed and indifferent Narcissa Black at mealtimes was enough.
Narcissa smiled at her young wards as they shuffled sleepily into the room. One of the downsides of being a first year was having Potions bright and early, three days a week. She wondered how long it would take for her younger Slytherins to figure out it was possible to get food directly in their dorm room, saving them a trip to the Great Halls and the long return to the dungeons.
Not that she would say a word, of course.
She spared William White a look as she busied herself cleaning her chalkboard. The boy looked better than he had at his Sorting, that much was certain. He was a very reserved young man, keeping his distance from most. Still, he seemed tranquil in his solitude, so Narcissa did not bother him. Some in Slytherin House seemed to be keeping their distance for the time being, but she hoped his performance in her class would help bolster his position.
Despite being a Muggleborn with absolutely no experience of the Wizarding World, William seemed to have a natural talent for potion-making, something Narcissa was very happy about. While many of his peers had some background knowledge on the material she was teaching them, William devoured his textbooks and engaged happily in lectures. Their only practical class thus far had been a Pepperup Potion, which she had supervised. William seemed quite interested in the use of potions in medicinal applications, and looked to be quite excited about their next project of creating a simple Bruise Removal Paste.
Her students filed in and settled without much fuss. Truth be known, Narcissa had been terrified of her first day of teaching – would she be good enough, did she actually know how to go about this, and, most importantly, what would her students think of having Narcisa Black, previously Malfoy, the Pureblooded Ice Queen, as their instructor?
Thankfully, her students seemed more fascinated by her than anything else. A few older Slytherins had expressed their regards in having her teach them, and she hilariously noted a few of her younger students seemed to be quite smitten with their teacher.
She laughed inwardly at the notion. Narcissa knew she was a woman of great beauty – it had served her well in life, as most underestimated her true abilities. Besides, she remembered what it had been like, to have a crush on a professor; not that she would ever, ever admit it to anyone.
This morning's class was quite excited by the prospect of another practical lesson. As first years, a lot of time was spent covering the theory of potions; kinds of ingredients, their properties and uses, types of cauldrons, the importance of proper measurements and incantations, among several other things. Thus, a practical lesson was reason for excitement.
She did not have a seating chart of any kind for her classroom, though the students naturally arranged themselves in a semi-rigid organization. She was pleased to note that William seemed to have befriended a Slytherin enough to sit by them every single day. Spencer Wyndham was an exuberant half-blood with a knack for making friends, so it seemed. Narcissa had noticed him at mealtimes, amicably chatting with anyone and everyone around him.
"Good morning, class. Today, after much anticipation, we will be preparing a simple Bruise Removal Paste. Now, before you take out your materials and notes, could anyone tell me one of its three main basic ingredients?"
She was happy to see a few hands up in the air, William's among them. A young Hufflepuff girl had been quicker, however.
"Miss Abraham?"
"Camphor, Professor."
"Quite right, Miss Abraham. Five points to Hufflepuff. Camphor is, in fact, the main active ingredient in this truly remarkable paste. Can anyone else tell me what form of camphor is used in its preparation?"
William's hand once again went up like a shot.
"Yes, Mr. White?"
"It can be used as an oil, Professor, or the wood can be used in its natural state."
"Correct. Five points to Slytherin. Now, a follow-up question: ten points to the House who gets it right, as this was not part of our notes or lectures. We will be using camphor oil in our work today; why is that preferable to the camphor wood?"
Only William's hand shot up in the air. She suppressed a smile; the boy had read ahead.
"Yes, Mr. White?"
"The oil is more concentrated, and easier to carry and integrate in the paste. The wood chips take too long to be incorporated, and the extra uh… stuff that comes with it makes it less effective."
"Excellent! Ten points to Slytherin. If you could all take out your cauldrons; you can work with your partner, but I would like to see individual samples of the paste. You may have your notes with you, I will check in with you all in about five minutes." Narcissa said, moving back to her desk to organize attendance.
After a few minutes, she paced through the classroom, happy with most of her students' progress. As she helped Mr. Abbott and Miss Kramer through a small ingredient mix-up, she heard hushed voices coming from a couple of rows behind.
"Mate, don't worry about it, just use some of mine; what's the difference anyway."
"Spencer, you need all of it. You don't have enough left over, just let me deal with it."
"Hold off, let me ask Abraham o'er there. Oi, Annet- "
"No! Please, let me deal with it. Don't make a fuss, I don't want Ms. Black to hear."
"Mate, how're you supposed to make this bloody thing if you don't have enough camphor?"
"Please, let me deal with this."
Narcissa felt compelled to intervene; obviously Mr. White had been underprepared for class for whatever reason. Yet somehow, something told her to give the young man his space, he seemed adamant to let him 'deal with it,' as he had so put it. Discreetly looking over their table, she noticed the awful condition of his cauldron and his tools with a bit of surprise; she hadn't seen them before for their previous practical, as it had been a group activity, where Mr. Wyndham had used his shiny new cauldron on behalf of his group. Additionally, she noted the scarcity of camphor up on William's workspace; he had barely a third of what was necessary for the paste.
The professor felt a pang of guilt. Camphor oil was not the dearest ingredient, but it was far from cheap. The state of William's materials told her everything she needed to know about the boy's situation, and it made her think of so many things she had taken for granted. She had always had the best of the best, and provided Draco with the same.
Her musings waned as William tackled his assignment with unusual fervor. He worked the ingredients he did have meticulously and precisely, though Narcissa was saddened. Even after all that work, he would never be able to achieve a good result. Still, she decided not to mention it; William obviously did not want it. Besides, she could tell from her occasional observations that his method was beyond reproach.
After the hour was done, Narcissa called for the end of the practical, and students filled small tin containers with their finished paste. Overall, Narcissa was happy with the results; a few had been burned here and there, but most of her pupils had managed to achieve a solution consistent with a Bruise Removal Paste.
It was when she arrived at the White-Wyndham table that her biggest surprised surfaced. Wyndham's paste was close to impeccable, and White's was, surprisingly, the right consistency and texture. It was, however, a completely different color, a very odd shade of brown.
"Mr. White" she said softly "could you explain to me the difference in tonality of your paste?"
She thought William would cower with embarrassment, which was why she tried her gentlest tone. However, the young boy surprised her even further.
"My apologies, Professor Black. I… forgot to bring enough camphor oil, so I tried to use an uh… alternative ingredient."
Narcissa could not hide her surprise. Alternative ingredient?
"I see. Let me ascertain something first, and then I would like you to tell me what that ingredient was." She said with a smile. With a flick of her wand, a small but quite visible bruise immediately formed on the back of her own hand. William seemed shocked, and about to interject.
"Worry not, Mr. White. It is merely a tester charm; healers in training use it fairly frequently."
With that said, she took some of the young man's finished paste and gingerly applied it to her hand. To her bewilderment, the purple mark started to fade almost immediately, waning to a pale yellow in a matter of seconds. It did not clear completely as the traditional Bruise Removal Paste would have; however, it worked just as fast. It was nothing short of astonishing.
"Remarkable. Mr. White, if you would be so kind, what have you used in your version of the paste?"
William looked timid but somewhat proud of his accomplishment.
"I ground up a few arnica leaves into the mixture, Professor. I knew it has similar properties to camphor, even if it isn't quite as… potent." He said.
Narcissa was pleasantly surprised. Of course.
"Remarkable, Mr. White." She turned to the rest of the class. "This is an excellent example of ingenuity coming in handy. It also serves us well as a lesson not to simply memorize ingredients and how they are added to a mixture. Any common cook can memorize a recipe, but a Potions Master knows why certain things work the way they do." She turned to the young man, who seemed a bit apprehensive, though his desk mate was positively beaming.
"Twenty points to Slytherin, Mr. White – for your ingenuity and creativity." She said; William looked happy until Wyndham clapped him on the back for all the points he had won Slytherin just in that class.
Once class was dismissed, Narcissa quietly asked William to remain and help with clearing up – a pretext, but not really. She planned to make it a habit to hold onto a student or two after every practical for that very purpose. But today, it gave her a chance to check in with the young boy. Professor Granger's hysterics were unnecessary, but she could understand the other witch's point of view, as well as her protectiveness of Muggleborns. In any case, she was glad William seemed to be an incredibly talented student; surely the quantity of points he amassed for his House would be favorable to his image in the end.
"Mr. White, what an inspired idea, the arnica leaves." She said, startling the boy who had occupied himself with cleaning some of her communal scales – sans magic. "May I ask, how did you think of it?"
William seemed bashful, but his grin had his hint of pride. Good, Narcissa thought; a fair amount of pride went into being a Slytherin.
"It was a coincidence, really. My mother makes a lot of home-made remedies. She uses it for everything." He said. "I noticed it growing by one of the greenhouses; Professor Longbottom said I could collect some. I didn't quite know it would come in handy so soon, I completely forgot to bring my camphor oil. My apologies, for that, Professor."
Narcissa commended the boy for his insightfulness, but she could spot a lie a mile away.
"Impressive indeed, Mr. White. But if I may be so bold, from what I have seen of you in my class, you do not seem like the type of student to 'forget' such crucial material… especially if you read ahead and knew of its significance." She said gently.
Whatever confidence William had had just moments before evaporated into thin air, if his shocked expression was anything to go by. Narcissa tutted inwardly; the boy would need to learn how to stand his ground if he ever expected to make it in his House.
"I… I…" he stuttered. Narcissa softly tapped his shoulder in reassurance.
"At ease, Mr. White. This is no interrogation. You are a remarkable student, and your work thus far has been beyond reproach. I am commending you on account of your creative solution, not accusing you of not following the rules."
The boy relaxed slightly, but a look of utter shame overcame his features.
"Mr. White?"
"I… I'm sorry, Professor Black. I couldn't afford all the ingredients on the school list at Diagon Alley. I… I couldn't even afford half of them." He confessed, his eyes welling up with tears he resolutely refused to shed.
"Oh, William" she said, turning his face towards her. "I wouldn't worry about that. You may use anything you'd like from my personal reserves. If you wish, you can come the day before class and I'll supply anything you need."
Narcissa could not help a smile as the first-year's eyes lit up.
"Oh, would you? I mean, thank you! Thank you, Professor, truly!"
Narcissa winked.
"You won't get away from my lessons so easily, Mr. White."
His returning grin was the epitome of sheer joy.
"No, never!"
Hermione cursed under her breath as she rushed towards the Headmistress' office. She was late for a meeting Minerva and Narcissa had set up to discuss William White. Well, truly the meeting was meant to be between Minerva and William's Head of House, but Narcissa had been diplomatic enough to offer the Transfigurations professor a chance to participate, knowing how much she feared for the young Muggleborn.
But now, Hermione was running late – a blasted Hufflepuff fifth year had all but blown up her classroom, reminding her of her former classmate Seamus Finnegan. The class had been attempting a more complex incantation to transfigure a parrot into a goblet. Before she knew it, it was feathers and flames all over the bloody place.
The edges of her hair were still lightly singed as she made her way up the gargoyle entrance. She could hear Minerva and Narcissa discussing softly.
"… that is indeed truly remarkable…"
"… don't believe there will be an issue…"
"Ah! Ms. Granger, thank you for joining us" said Minerva with a knowing smirk and glance at the stray feathers on her former student's robes. Hermione sighed. News travelled way too bloody fast in this castle.
"Apologies for the delay. There was an unfortunate incident during class." She said diplomatically.
"Incident? I trust everything is alright?" asked Narcissa, oblivious.
"Yes… it involved a parrot or several… and an explosion caused by faulty wandwork." Hermione quipped as she seated herself. She could have sworn she saw the blonde's lips curl into a grin for a moment before her features were once again schooled. Narcissa offered no further comment.
"Well, shall we continue then?" Minerva said. "Ms. Granger, I believe you can tell us of Mr. White's performance and behavior? Narcissa was just telling me of his work in Potions."
Hermione huffed, half in worry, half in defeat.
"It is worse than I thought, Headmistress. Young Mr. White seems to have neither the aptitude nor the will to tackle Transfiguration. He interacts with no one but one student – his assigned deskmate. He shows great difficulty with the subject, both in theory and in practice. I am afraid that he is still much affected by this major transition in his life and has yet to adjust; I believe a closer and more personalized method of teaching would greatly benefit him."
It was only once her commentary was done that Hermione realized the looks of complete shock over the other two women.
"Excuse me, Ms. Granger, but this is William White we are talking about? The first ever Muggleborn in Slytherin?" Minerva asked, clearly confused as her former student regarded her as if she had grown another head.
"Yes, of course. Why would I speak of any other student?"
Minerva and Narcissa shared a look.
"Well, Ms. Granger, your comment beggars all belief, to be frank. I could not have heard a more different account if I had asked for one" Minerva said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it has been my understanding that Mr. White has been doing acceptably well in all of his classes thus far. Narcissa was just telling me of his incredible performance in their practical lesson two days ago." Minerva confessed, stunned.
The brunette turned to her coworker so fast Narcissa thought she heard her neck crack.
"You must be joking. William White? The Muggleborn in Slytherin?"
Narcissa smirked.
"Why, Ms. Granger. I would have thought you of all people would be aware of the limitless potential of Muggleborns." She quipped. What an interesting turn this conversation had taken.
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Any Muggleborn is as witch or wizard as any Pureblood in this castle. That is not the issue. William White has yet to achieve a single passable result in my class. He does not read the material, he does not participate, and seems reluctant to perform the simplest incantations!" Hermione yipped, both in frustration and confusion.
"And that has caught us by surprise, Ms. Granger. Thus far, we have only heard positive things from William's professors, Ms. Black included." Minerva commented.
"That cannot be. If he presents this difficulty in Transfiguration, he must present difficulty in another, similar area. What has Flitwick said of him in Charms?"
"I hate to contradict you, Ms. Granger, but Master Flitwick has had only good things to report – Mr. White seems adequately proficient for his level, and has no trouble participating in lectures and demonstrations, though he is quite timid in general.
"What about Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
"Professor Krum has also reported satisfactory work. Mr. White seems like a shy boy, but academically, he fares decently well despite his timid nature."
"He is not so timid in Potions" Narcissa added. "I believe his friendship with Spencer Wyndham has helped tremendously."
"Friendship with Spencer Wyndham? This is the first I'm hearing of this." Hermione said.
Minerva cocked an eyebrow at the brunette.
"I fail to see why you would have heard of it, Ms. Granger. If am remember correctly, Mr. White and Mr. Wyndham are in separate Transfiguration classes." The Headmistress countered.
After the war, the Hogwarts staff had worked to make classes more diverse by creating smaller class numbers mixed with all four Houses. It had seemed to work, as most students ended up befriending those from other Houses.
"That is beside the point. Caroline Stewart and Gustav Braun have not reported any friendly interaction on the part of Mr. White." Hermione muttered.
Now both of Minerva's eyebrows had climbed unusually far into her hairline.
"Ms. Granger, you mean to tell me you assigned Gryffindor prefects to keep tabs on a single student?" she asked, half amused, half infuriated by Hermione's stubbornness.
"Not 'to keep tabs.' Simply to check in every now and then, to make sure William's doing alright. I constantly try to talk to him to see if there is anything I can do, but he seems terrified or conversation." She mused.
Narcissa could not contain a snort of laughter, which earned her a glare from the brunette.
"My apologies, Ms. Granger…. But I believe we've arrive at the crux of the matter."
Hermione folded her arms against her chest in denial.
"Oh, and that would be?"
Narcissa rolled her eyes. How could such a brilliant witch not see what was right in front of her?
"Ms. Granger… You with your covert observations, you little spies, your constant badgering for him to speak to you when he is clearly not willing, your over-willingness to be of use… don't you see?"
Hermione refused to answer, but Narcissa had seen understanding dawn in those mocha-brown eyes.
"Ms. Granger… you've scared the boy."
